


Trick or Treat

by NiwaEngland



Category: Fright Night (2011), Twilight (Movies)
Genre: Count Dracula - Freeform, Fright Fest 2020, Halloween, Kidnapping, M/M, Old Monster Movies, Professor Abraham Van Helsing, Samhain Shenanigans, Spooky Castle, Tale as Old as Time, The Black Forest, vampire, vampire slayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiwaEngland/pseuds/NiwaEngland
Summary: Peter Vincent was a stage performer. A magician and a world-renowned expert on the occult and all things supernatural. So why was he kidnapped, lost in a creepy castle and starring in his very own monster movie?
Relationships: Aro (Twilight)/Peter Vincent
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27





	1. Trick

**Author's Note:**

> A tribute to all the old monster movies 🕯️
> 
> Chapter 2 will be up for Halloween! Kudos and comments are always appreciated 🦇🎃

The same word whisper in the dark.   
  


_'Look at you all grown up.'_

  
Peter stirs in his nightmare.  
He takes the shot and misses.   
  


_'You've got your mother's eyes.'_

The vampire smiles, reminiscing. 

_'And you're father's aim.'_

Peter Vincent starts awake. Thinking that he's bleeding because he always wakes up thinking about blood. Apparently, one horrific childhood nightmare wasn't enough. Now he had two traumatic incidents to deal with. At least Jerry was finally dead, brutally burned out of existence. He really did have it coming.

The dream hung around Peter, he could still smell the soiled earth from Jerry's underground lair. Slowly the scene faded out to the sound of his beating heart. Peter blinked away the darkness and sleep from his eyes. Peering up at patchwork and embroidery. Confused he glanced around, finding an unfamiliar space. He sat up hastily in a bed not his own. A ridiculous four-poster contraption right out of the dark ages. The room was gloomy, a collection of candles burned softly around him. 

Was this a joke? A set design? 

It was a scene stolen right out of those cheesy old monster movies. Where the beautiful damsel would wake, after being carried off by the beast.

It couldn't be real. 

But he wasn't on tour, this didn't even feel like Vegas. The last thing he coherently remembered was being on stage. Fighting off a horde of beautiful vampires, hyping to the cheer of the crowd. Glancing down at himself Peter could see his stage outfit, coat and all. He scrubbed at his face and hair, they were his own. Someone had removed his disguise and wasn't that a worrying thought?

Moving quietly Peter flung his legs over the bed. Maybe he'd been grabbed by a crazed fan but then what about his security? He had people on staff to prevent this. Fright Night was the heart and soul of the Hard Rock Casino & Hotel. How could this have happened?

He practically tiptoed to the door, holding his breath as he turned the handle. Surprised to find it unlocked. Peter opened it, peering in absolute disbelief into a dark, stone-walled hallway. Gingerly he moved out into the passage peering out of a foggy window. It was dark out, maybe around midnight or so. The Blue Moon beyond the glass was beautiful. Beckoning. It's eerie glow illuminated the ground below. The baron pastures were too far down to distinguish but beyond it lay a forest. So full of dark tree's it looked impenetrable. Touching the stone to confirm it's solidity Peter stared at the hint of his own reflection. 

Okay, so he was in a castle. He was in a monster movie. He was the star and worst of all he was sober. 

"This is it then" he announced out loud to the space beyond the glass. "I'm dead aren't I?"

Something must have gone wrong in the show. Probably the bloody pyrotechnics. Possibly making it the best Fright Night performance of his career. Too bad he wouldn't be around to enjoy it. The headlines, the limelight, the press.

"Don't be dramatic." A familiar accentuated voice said. "If you were dead then you wouldn't be here."  
  
Peter spun around and stared. Now standing in the door to _his_ chamber was none other than the Volturi devil. Dressed in exquisite finery and a grand cape draped elegantly around him. 

"Did you do this?" Peter asked, searching red eyes in shock. There was a smile on the vampire's face which Peter wanted to slap off.

"No!" Casting out his hands in defence Peter felt his sanity slip. "Tell me you didn't! Tell me that _this_ isn't real. That you didn't kidnap me as I came off stage."

Yet he remembered. Stepping into the wings and finding solid darkness. A sudden blur, lurching weightlessness and then nothing.

The vampire's silence was as good as a confirmation. "You're completely insane! People will know, they'd have noticed! Christ. Is this even Vegas? If this is some kind of creepy fucking castle in central Europe I'm going to-"

"Escape." Aro finished. "It wouldn't be any fun if you didn't try to."

"Where am I?" Peter demanded. "Where in the fucking world is this!?!"

"We are deep within the Black Forest. It is a mountainous region in southwest Germany, bordering France."

"So we are in Europe!"

Aro tilted his head. Pondering the waves of human anxiety. "Yes. It really wasn't hard to manage."

"That's not the point! Don't you get it? I'm not apart of your Volturi mad bastard fan club. I'm not a teenage girl, I don't find this romantic!"

God help him. Peter started to shout as Aro began to laugh. "I'm not your fucking damsel in distress! How many Hammer House of Horror films have you watched!?!"

"I thought you enjoyed those films."

"I did!" Peter spouted. "I do but I didn't say that I wanted to be in one." There was almost no space between them. "This is crazy, this is crossing the line." Admittedly the line was invisible and barely comprehended. "You can't just-"

"It's an hour till midnight," Aro interrupted. Amused and bright. "You've got an hour to escape."

Peter grasped the window ledge behind him. Too many questions muddled his mind. "What happens at midnight?"

"It's a surprise."

"But I don't like surprises!"

Pale hands pressed together. "Everyone likes surprises. Time is wasting." 

Did the leader of the Volturi just sing-song?

"You can't be serious! You can't do this to me." Despite the panic, a strange sense of betrayal weighed down heavily upon Peter. But he still had his pride. He was above begging. By about an inch.

"I'm not playing this part."

Peter gasped as a cold hand caught and cupped his face. "And what part would that be?"

"The damsel in distress." Peter tried to pull away. Gasping instead as Aro pressed in close.

"That is not the part that you were meant to play." Peter cringed as Aro's cold hand slid down to curl around his throat. "I've always preferred the daring Vampire Hunter myself."

"So I'm Van Helsing?" Peter tried to push the vampire away. "And you're what? Count fucking Dracula?"

The next words were whispered in Peter's ear. "Professor Van Helsing would always survive. Use your imagination, Peter."

With that, the vampire was gone. Peter's legs buckled embarrassingly. His heart pounded and his thoughts spun. Blindly Peter thought of those old monster movies and finally, he started to run. 


	2. Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's perilous journey through the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!  
> 🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃
> 
> A tribute to Lon Chaney Jr. The Wolfman 🌕
> 
> As always your kudos and comments are chocolatey treats for the soul 🍬

Ok. So he didn't know where he was. Didn't have any direction other than down. No weapons and no alcohol. To Peter, it smacked of a complete breakdown. But that could wait until he was home and safe and drinking himself stupid. 

He'd spent the last fifteen minutes creeping around corners and looking endlessly for some fucking stairs. There had to be stairs, somewhere. Elusive things, stairs. Never around when you needed them. 

Was this all from one old movie in particular? He'd seen most of them. But it was either years ago or when he was very drunk. Dracula and Van Helsing rarely collided. The whole scenario was a collection of silly scenes, the missed possibilities of what might have been. A better movie maybe. If it had ever been just the two of them, uninterrupted. 

...

Aro had assured himself that he would give Peter time and space. But the temptation to follow his hunter around was too much for any besotted immortal to bare. What if Peter tripped? Hurt himself? Attempted to hurl himself through a window? Peter Vincent was wily and creative but rather prone to dramatic impulses that veered so far into danger it was baffling. 

So stalking in a friendly fashion Aro kept to the shadows, moving swiftly when needed. Every glimpse of Peter was exciting. Every swear word a divine comedy. To see such concentration etched into that beautiful face was exquisite. Why Dracula never coveted Professor Van Helsing was beyond Aro. Much more fun, the mortals who know, who fear the darkness and still strive to fight it. They are the delicate, fierce flames which burn in the night. 

"For fucks sake! Where are the fucking stairs!?!"

How long had it been since anyone or anything had been so moving, so utterly hilarious and alive? Taking pity Aro nudged the well-hidden door to his right. Dashing away as it creaked on its hinges and alerted Peter. 

...

"Spooky," Peter said to himself. So suspicious he could hardly stand it. Suddenly there were stairs. Because why not?

The stairwell was narrow dark and winding. Not exactly inviting. But the hint of warm light loomed below. Running was out of the question so Peter started his descent slowly. Grasping at the wall to steady himself. Not noticing the door swinging back on itself and slamming shut. "Shit!" 

Peter pounded dangerously down the steps. Moving like a bat out of hell. "Shitshitshitshitshit!" He didn't hear the hasty footsteps behind him.

...

Aro had been watching the worlds most dramatic man for over half an hour. Still so utterly lost and wildly pissed off. Perhaps Peter was not having fun? Didn't humans like to be scared? Was it not the season for it?

Delight spread through the vampire as Peter wandered warily into the unlit ballroom. Shrieking as the chandelier burst into life from it's grounded position. Light blinding. The Phantom of the Opera theme blaring its iconic overture. Complete with an authentic organ which played itself. As the chandelier began to rise Peter legged it back out of the room. "What in the fuck is happening!?!"

And so the pattern repeated. When Peter wandered into the large cavernous bathroom something bubbled beneath the surface of the ship sized bath. A life-size dummy of the creature from the black lagoon popped out. Causing Peter to collapse against the wall with a curse. Clutching at his heart. 

When he wandered back into a bedroom Aro was the one waiting. The monster under the bed, patience and preening. As Peter walked by Aro seized the booted ankle. Trying not to laugh as Peter screamed bloody murder and clambered onto the bed tugging at his own leg like a wild, demented animal. Finally, a minute or so went by before Peter spoke, clutching a pillow out in front of him.  
"This isn't funny you know. I haven't been worried about what's under the bed since I was six years old."

Despite the drama, Peter's heart had eased into an almost natural rhythm. He was getting the game, building some immunity to the jump scares and bullshit. 

Aro watched Peter silently from the eyes of a painting. He'd snuck out from under the bed and stole from the room upon the releasing of the leg. Waiting with a predators patience Aro devoured the experience. Stifling a giggle as Peter dared to look under the bed using the pillow as a makeshift shield. Time was running short and with a mere thought Aro snuffed out the remaining candles one by one. 

...

For Peter, it was like reliving every single one of his childhood nightmares. He'd never have coped with it as a kid and as an adult Peter was seriously struggling to keep it together. "I can't see in the dark." He accused, sitting uncomfortably still in the middle of the bed. Still clutching the goose down pillow. "This is _clearly_ cheating!"

Huffing Peter forced his legs over the side of the bed and onto the floor. "If you grab me again I will-"

Somewhere a grand clock started to chime. Midnight was about to toll. Bolting from the room Peter ran faster than he had managed before, barely dodging the artefacts and statues by moonlight alone. The winding hallway gave way to a large entryway and there at the far side was the front door. 

There was still time. The clock still tolled. Peter crossed the expanse hardly remembering to breathe. His hand grabbed the handle twisted terribly and pulled. The clocks final toll ended and Peter Vincent fell straight into the arms of certain death. 

"That was wonderfully close."

Struggling Peter tried to pull back, suddenly so crushed against the vampire his mind blanked. He glanced at the forbidden forest beyond. The darkness beneath the trees seemed to mock him. Peter half expected to see Lon Chaney Jr, the Wolfman baying out there at the moon.

With one simple little push, Peter was back inside the castle. The door to spooky salvation slammed shut. Within a second the vampire descended and Peter found himself in an artful spin, falling backwards into a classic dip. The dance was done. Familiar rapturous red eyes burned bright above. Aro's dark cloak enveloped them both with a stylish swish.

But instead of the fatal bite came a gentle kiss. 

"Trick."

Peter hung at an awkward angle, held up only by immortal arms. "What?"

Aro's beautiful face of haunting confusion was much too close. "Don't you remember? The last time we met you insisted that Samhain was the festivity for trick and treats. After some consideration, I chose to surprise you with both."

Fear drained from Peter, promptly replaced with unhinged fury. "Are you fucking kidding me!?!"

"Happy Halloween Peter."

Shoving wildly to get free Peter stumbled as he was righted and released. Stumbling back he pointed an accusing finger. "So all of this was a joke? I thought that'd you'd lost your mind or finally got bored with me."

The vampire was still, "I could never grow weary of you."

"I nearly shit myself!"

"Well, you did have the opportunity to visit the bathroom."

"Which was occupied by the creature from the black lagoon!" Peter shouted. Shaking from the effort. He eyed the door. "So what now? Do we continue with this game? Is this the part where I start to run away screaming? Should I trip and fall only to miraculously get away?"

Red eyes glowed in amusement. "Would you trip and fall?"

"Not with you behind me." Because that would be that wouldn't it? No silly escapes, no second chances. Aro was not the kind of blood drinker that made mistakes. But destroying the nerves and sanity of perfectly respectable stage performers was another thing entirely. 

"Can I go home?"

"So soon. After I put in all this effort to surprise you?"

Aro cast out his hand as an offering. Peter's eyes met red and he hesitated. "Dearest one, do not misunderstand. This is a bit of fun. There is no danger here."

Peter only succeeded in making a distressed sound in the back of his throat.

"Join me. The dungeons below us are set up as a haunted house, there is also alcohol, sugar delights and a ghost train waiting to depart."

"Is that supposed to tempt me?" Peter could hardly believe it.

"You may hold onto me if you get scared."

"Right," Peter snorted. Starting to smile, despite himself. The sheer fucking gaul of it all. "So I can hide under your cape if it all gets too real?"

"It is my hearts most wicked desire."

"And if I get cold?"

"I shall surrender my cloak without hesitation."

Shrugging in defeat Peter swept his hand through his messy auburn hair. He had always wanted to get his hands on that cloak. "Alright, I'll stay."

Peter squeaked as he found himself swept up into the arms of the vampire. Beyond his heated protests he privately marvelled at the subtle strength. In reality, he weighed nothing more than a feather to this ancient, truly balmy being. "I don't need to be carried! The role-play is over and I'm not a damsel in distress!"

"I'm saving you from the stairs. They seem to have eluded you before and it is a dangerous decent." Aro smiled wildly, chuckling as Peter swiped him.

"Oh fuck off you saw that? Who even hides stairs? What kind of architecture is that?"

The door to the basement opened before them. Still embarrassed but surprisingly comfortable Peter settled. "You swear that you've got alcohol down there right? That's it's not some weird sex dungeon or something equally terrifying."

"You have my word."

"And there is a functional ghost train?"

"Only the best."

The night was still young. Peter had plenty of time to play his own version of trick or treat on the unsuspecting vampire. He'd been shit hot at it as a kid, as an adult he was damn right dangerous. 

Peter spoke as the darkness began to swallow them. "I guess it's not the worst way to spend Halloween. I've always liked spooky castles and dark scary woods and mad vampire bastards who consider this a romantic date."

"A getaway surely," Aro corrected airly. "We have the whole weekend."

"We need to have a movie marathon then."

"Which one should we start with?"

"Oh, I don't know..." Peter pressed close. Feeling bolder in the dark. Heated blood running through his veins. Halloween was really shaping up. "The Kiss of the Vampire. Very realistic bats in that one."


End file.
